


Lychees for breakfast

by Jackpotgirl1



Series: Pieces of us [8]
Category: Breddy, TwoSet, Twosetviolin, twoset violin
Genre: M/M, No Beta, Parents asking when are you getting married, Yang family, b&e are that old alrdy lol, chen family, i'm stressed i made a oneshot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25745428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackpotgirl1/pseuds/Jackpotgirl1
Summary: "If you want to marry, you can."
Relationships: Eddy Chen/Brett Yang
Series: Pieces of us [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672330
Comments: 8
Kudos: 50





	Lychees for breakfast

**Author's Note:**

> Original work from my wattpad.

“If you want to marry, you can.”

Wide-eyed, Brett snapped his head up, to his mother who drank her tea calmly. His brows knitted in confusion. Violin calloused hand almost let go of the small plastic bag he’s filling with lychees from the fruit bowl on the coffee table, he thought of giving some to Eddy, just because they had too many. He was on his way out of the house, to shoot a Twoset Violin episode at the Chen’s.

With his free hand, Brett adjusted his glasses, tried to comprehend what his mother just said. His mind went blank, static. And his body may know more things than his mind as Brett put a hand to his forehead to wipe a cold sweat, and the strap of his violin case slid off of the bespectacled’s shoulder as he did.

The clink of Yang-mama’s teacup against its saucer vibrated through the living room. Whose walls painted in a clean cream, windows adorned with curtains of maroons and gold, and had furniture that may be older than her sons. She sighed, then shifted on her seat and crossed her legs. With a sharp look on her eyes, “I thought you might need it,” Yang-mama paused, “a verbal confirmation.”

-

As always, it was Eddy who opened the door for Brett. With a joyous smile and a tight squeeze of his arms around the glasses-clad man, a bone-crushing welcome. After that, he’d lead them both to the living room.

The gesture seemed playful for Eddy, but it meant a lot for Brett. The taller’s warmest hug and brightest smile, Brett’s forever grateful to be always at the receiving end. They’re like this since before, and Brett’s only wish was for it to never change.

But there can’t be any changes. True, the world goes round, and every second passes. He can forgive minuscule variations, and only time can tell when drastic ones may happen. So, in Brett’s heart, he can only prepare.

The small difference this time was when the Eddy noticed the plastic bag on Brett’s hand. “What’s that?”

Brett plopped down on the sofa, and put his violin case on the coffee table, the same for the plastic bag of fruit. “Lychees.”

\---

Eddy Chen, Brett’s best friend.  
2+ years out of the dating game.  
Reason/s: “I’m busy with Twoset.”

Brett Yang, Eddy’s best friend.  
3+ years out of the dating game.  
Reason/s: “I’m busy with Twoset.”

\---

“Ow!” The older Chen sibling exclaimed, almost coughing out her sandwich as she rubbed her tingly side where her mother pinched her as she passed by.

“Eat rice!” Chen-mama pointed to the half-done sandwich her daughter made. Angrily she spewed out “I cook you proper food and you still eat rubbish!” as she walked out of the modern styled kitchen. And not even a second had passed, in the living room, another headache.

“Jenny! The tailor’s daughter Jenny,” Chen-mama said to her son, who’d eyed her just for a second, shrugged, then continued to type away on his phone. “She’s a good kid, ba,” the mother added as she grabbed her purse from the coffee table, wedged the poor flower-patterned purse on her armpit.

“Maaaaa, stop playing matchmaker,” Eddy lazily laid down from his sitting position, his phone slipped off from his hand. Luckily it’s still on the sofa. “I’m not going out with your mahjong mate’s daughters. I’m busy. Not interested.”

“Aiya! you-- it’s because you’re always with that friend of yours! Maybe he’s gay! He’s turning you gay! Ohmygod! He’s a bad influence on you! oh-- my head hurts... Oh!” She massaged her temples, then Chen-mama suddenly remembered something and hurriedly fumbled with her purse.

“Ma! Brett’s not--” Eddy was cut off with a spray of sickly sweet perfume, landed on his mouth. _Bitter_. His face contorted, as Eddy stormed off to the kitchen to rinse his mouth with water, with Chen-mama following him, still spritzing.

Chen-mama stopped spraying Eddy, and stayed at the doorway, and clicked her tongue at the sight of her headache children in the kitchen. Headache number one, her ungrateful daughter who won’t eat proper food; number two, her _influenced_ son, gargling the perfume out of his mouth on the sink. And she’d be late on her competitive mahjong practice sessions with the village housewives.

Curious of the sweet smell, her daughter nodded her head towards the perfume on her mother’s hand, “what’s that?”

“It’s a,” check’s on the label, _“gay away spray.”_

The siblings choked on whatever they were consuming at that moment.

Eddy exclaimed, “Ma! Don’t believe everything you see on the internet!”

And as if on cue the doorbell rang. Eddy quickly wiped his mouth with his shirt, and sprint to the main door, to welcome his friend of course. 

Chen-mama straightened her yellow team shirt, and followed her son. Before they reached the door, she pinched Eddy on his side, which earned a pained shout. Pointing her finger to her son’s face, “no funny business, ah!”

\---

At the “office,” Eddy peeked through the blinds of the window behind him. Dark. No wonder they’re exhausted. Another long day of filming done.

The last of Brett’s typing sounds on the laptop died down. The stillness of the air made Eddy turn to his friend.

With his head slumped down on his folded arms on the table, to the laptop’s side, Brett, “ugh, so tired...”

An equally tired exhale escaped Eddy. His eyes landed on Brett’s ear, peeked from his hair. ‘Brett needs a haircut,’ he thought, as his fingers inched closer to touch the outer rim. But his thoughts of wanting to touch Brett deemed inappropriate by his mind. Eddy's movement halted, so he bit his lip and forced himself to look away.

As if on cue, Brett sat up straight. He let out a dragged out groan as he leaned back, the top of his head touching the wall. His fully exposed neck, inviting to kiss, to nib, and Eddy had to close his eyes shut this time.

“I don’t wanna go home.”

Eddy perked up from the statement, turned to his friend. Even he’s happy, “you still have to go home, though.” He stood up, to keep himself from staring at Brett, Eddy started packing up the recording equipment. “No matter how late it is, right?”

Brett again groaned, this time shorter. Weakly, and obviously tired and lifeless, “let me just sleep here, bro.” 

“But I don’t want your mom to cut my stomach open.”

Head still plastered to the wall, Brett, “she won’t, trust me.”

Dismantling the camera from the tripod, Eddy chuckled, “I trust you, Brett.” He paused, glanced at his friend, “it’s just, your mom _can_ cut my stomach open.”

Brett plopped his head back on the table. As he fixed his glasses that went askew, he got reminded of the pictures on their living room walls. Of his mom’s high school days, as a bike gang leader.

He let out a long ass groan.

\--- 

_“What’s the most fucked up thing you did while in uni?”_

_Brett pointed his finger at his friend, the same hand holding his beer glass. Yeah, he’s like that, he doesn’t drink directly on the can. From the bowl of snacks, peanuts, Brett got himself a handful. Tossed a peanut to his mouth, chewed, “that you haven’t told anyone yet?”_

_Eddy laughed at his beer can, pulled it out from his lips. He eyed Brett. “Nah, I don’t think I ha--” he gulped down a few, and crushed the can with this hand. A thought came to him, not that much_ _ **fucked up**_ in his standards, though he hasn’t told Brett about it yet. “No, I have!” Another laugh, as Eddy opened another beer can, “it’s silly.”

_Without knowing what it was yet, Brett laughed along with Eddy. Adjusting his glasses with the knuckle of his peanut grease and salt-covered fingers. Brett smiled at his friend, “spill it! Spill it!”_

_Nights like these were the most fun part of them on tour. Friends staying up late, catching up, talking about the most random and silly things, reminiscing their days as kids, or discovering more new things about each other over drinks or food._

_Like how Brett once showed up in class and took the exam drunk, no one noticed. Or how Eddy fapped in one of the secluded staircases on campus, that up to this day, the act was covered up as a ghost story._

_Fun,_

_but not all._

_It was also one of these nights when Eddy’s girlfriend broke up with him over the phone, she said:_ _**”I found someone new.”** _

_Eddy didn’t drink, he didn’t cry. He simply said to Brett, “we have a show tomorrow.”_

_And when Brett had a slip of his tongue, about his first relationship that he never talked about to Eddy before. The bastard who stopped contacting him after taking his_ _**virginity** _ _._

_He’s fumed, Eddy. He drank, he cried, all in Brett’s place._

_-_

_Under the bright lights, before the audience, they thought,_

_if there were anyone who won’t betray them,_

_it’s the stage,_

_their music,_

_and each other._

\---

Brett fell face-first to the Chen’s living room sofa. The soft and fresh smell of detergent on the pillows lulled him to sleep, but before he can forget, he raised an arm holding to a small paper bag. His face buried in the cushions, Brett, “here, lychees.”

It’s still 9 AM, but his friend sounded like he worked an 18-hour continuous shift in a construction site for a building foundation concrete pouring or something. Eddy sighed, shook his head. He’s worried about his friend’s health, too tired of commuting to and fro his house every day for a shoot.

Grabbing the paper bag from the raised hand, Eddy, “why don’t you stay here?”

As if jolted awake, Brett turned around to face Eddy.

Eddy’s puzzled as to why Brett’s face... “what?”

In disbelief, Brett, “you sure, man?”

Now, Eddy’s unsure too. He sat on the sofa, near his friend’s knees. He placed the paper bag to the coffee table, the contents lightly rolled, spilled over. Eddy licked his lips, and turned to Brett, “I have to ask ma first.”

Brett was silent, he stared at Eddy, who ate the lychees he brought as if it’s the most delicious thing in the world. He dismissed the sickly sweet scent on Eddy that made his head hurt, he’s curious though, really curious. _‘Who’s the lucky girl?’_

He propped himself with an arm, sat up, Brett hugged his knees and sighed. It’s more important to devise a plan on how to make his mom agree to him staying over at Eddy’s. ‘I should buy her cake?’

“Hm?” Eddy rest his head on Brett’s knee, still eating.

Brett chewed on his thumb, it’s not like Eddy was heavy or anything, but he’s irritated. “I’m thinking.”

-

At Yang’s.

“Suit yourself.”

Both his eyes and mouth were wide open, Brett can’t believe what he heard. His mom? No questions asked? He eyed the slice of cake on the coffee table, then back at his mother. To be sure, Brett, “really? I mean, just-- just like that?”

Without batting an eyelash, she nonchalantly sipped on her tea. “suit yourself.”

It’s great that his mom gave him a thumbs up, but on the back of his mind, _‘is there a catch somewhere?’_

-

At Chen’s.

The elder Chen cleared up the dining table, but her mom and brother were still in a heated discussion.

A hand slammed on the table, Chen-mama’s, her coffee nearly spilled, “no! He can’t!”

“But ma, it’s for work,” Eddy retorted, “and besides, we have a vacant room.”

“Still!” Chen-mama crossed her arms, eyed her son from across the dining table.

Elbows on the table, forehead on his palms and Eddy stayed like that for a good minute or two.

The sounds of ceramics clinking on the sink, as his sister washed the dishes, and his restless leg, Eddy’s socked foot tapped continuously on the wooden floor were the only background noise on the otherwise quiet kitchen, evening. Eddy can’t figure out why his mom was so against the idea, it’s not that she would tell him either. And it’s not possible for him to stay over and shoot at Brett’s place because of the children there, his friend’s cousins and nephews.

He sighed, looked up from his palm to look at his mom. The younger Chen sibling ruffled his hair as he licked his front teeth. Eddy’s distressed.

‘No use in talking to her about it again tonight,’ Eddy thought. Defeated, he begrudgingly pulled his chair, stood up, and went to his room without turning back, or saying “goodnight.”

Chen-mama stirred her half-finished coffee, shook her head. She seemed disappointed too. As she pulled out the teaspoon from her cup, her daughter:

“Ma, why are you so against Brett staying over?” She sat on the chair Eddy left, while she wiped her hands with a paper towel.

Lifting the cup to her lips, Chen-mama answered before she took a sip, “it’s a bad idea.”

She almost let out a laugh, luckily the daughter stopped herself or she’d be whacked in her butt. But, really, “why?”

No answer.

In the Chen daughter’s mind, it’s indeed silly to be overprotective of her brother. So, her curiosity and uncontrollable mouth combined, Eddy’s sister, “Ma, he’s twenty-eight!” This time her laugh escaped, “and it’s not like Eddy will get pregnant if Brett moved in here, you know.”

\---

Early morning. Flipping eggs in the Chen household kitchen, Brett yawned.

His eyes were so tired that they are hard to stay open, even with the tiny little splatters of hot oil to his hand can’t keep him up awake. The egg on the frying pan, bubbled and bubbled. Brett dozed off, nodded, and nodded.

9 PM yesterday, Brett was getting ready to turn in for the day when Eddy called him, excited, that his mom agreed to let him use the guest room in their house. In exchange for Eddy cleaning the said place. Brett didn’t expect it to be this fast, he estimated it to be at least two business days to convince Eddy’s mom. So, he too, stayed up late to pack his bags.

And moved in within the same night.

Scratching his tummy, Eddy’s shirt rode up along his arm, “you cooking?”

His friend’s sleepy morning voice cut Brett from his thoughts and made him alert, awake. And he had to act fast enough to fight back his blush, from Eddy’s exposed side to his tousled bird nest hair. It’s never the first time he saw this kind of Eddy, but he had to keep his guard up, ‘to domestic,’ he thought.

“Yeah,” the glasses clad man answered, as he transferred the last of the eggs to a dish. “I can’t really sleep,” as he placed the fried eggs on the dining table, he smiled to himself at Eddy’s back, making coffee for them both. Brett continued, “when I got up, your mom was getting ready to leave to practice for the tourney. She asked me to cook.”

“Sorry, hard to sleep in a dirty room, eh?” on Eddy’s hands, a steaming hot cup of coffee each. He gave one to Brett, who sets up the china, as he sat down beside him. “Tourney? As in a tournament? I thought that mahjong thing is just a hobby?” 

“Nah, it’s clean. I’m just not used to the new room,” Brett filled his plate with fried rice, “they’re going up against Thailand next week, that’s why they’re pumping up the training.”

“Bro!” Eddy almost spilled his coffee, and his eyes were wide as his plate, where Brett put rice and sausages on, “they’re international?!” He put his coffee to the side, and mumbled a quiet ‘thanks’ to Brett as he grabbed the bottle of ketchup, “this is crazy!”

Brett laughed, “you didn’t know?”

“I totally don’t!” as Eddy cut his sausage with his spoon, “how’d you know?”

“Ma’s a member,” glasses took a sip of his coffee, “treasurer.” 

Eddy’s sister joined the two for breakfast, not a decent breakfast for Chen-mama’s standards because she’s making another sandwich. Bread, sausage, egg, cheese, ketchup, and she planned to eat it on the go. 

“Anime girls only eat toast,” Eddy commented, “you, a whole sandwich!”

She stuck out a tongue to his brother, then turned to Brett, “thanks for the food,” which the shorter answered back with a nod. Adjusting the strap of her sling bag to her shoulder, she walked out of the kitchen.

Within her earshot, as she walked-ate towards the main door, his brother, “what if the yolk is runny, it’ll ruin your clothes!” Then Brett chuckled, “it’s not, you don’t your eggs that way.”

There, she started to believe, maybe her mother’s worries aren’t so base-less after all.

\---

“I’ll treat you to a meal”

Eddy did say that, but as Brett pack up the filming equipment, without looking outside or at his watch, “it’s the dead of the night, no restaurants are open this late.”

Brett’s worry only earned a chuckle from Eddy. With a hand, he ruffled his Brett’s hair, “I know.”

And when did Eddy come this close? When did Eddy be this tall? This strong, as his friend’s hand, made a catastrophic mess on his hair, on his heart? And before it can lead to anything else, Brett swatted Eddy’s hand. He cleared his throat to regain his composure, “you’ll cook?”

“Nah, I can’t,” as revenge for his swatted hand, Eddy pinched Brett’s cheek. With a wide grin, “we’ll go out. It’s a date!”

Brett put a hand on his reddened cheek, his eyes never left his friend’s retreating figure. What was that about? What about the sweet perfume on your clothes? Brett bit his lip, mumbled under his breath, “god damn you, Eddy Chen.”

-

“Wow!” Brett said out loud as Eddy opened the glass doors for him, “7-eleven, huh?”

Eddy looked around, to find a seat for them. Scratching the back of his head, “it’s near, and open 24/7.”

“Cheap ass,” Brett snorted, as he buried his hand to his jacket’s pockets. In his mind, ‘your girl... you don’t treat her like this...”

The taller’s throaty laughter filled the convenience store, as he occupied the vacant high stools facing the road outside. While Brett shopped for his ”fancy” late-night dinner.

Luckily, they were the only crazy people in town who chose to eat instant ramen there at 2 AM. Luckily, Brett can always keep Eddy to himself as long as his friend allowed. Luckily... no one can hear Brett’s selfish thoughts.

\---

“It’s okay if you don’t have plans on telling me,” Brett started, as he wiped rosin off of his violin. Much careful, not to smear on his dark clothes. Brett turned around to face Eddy, who sends instructions to their editor. Then forced himself a smile, “good luck on your love life.” The last part, he swallowed the words, Brett can’t even say.

Was there something Eddy... should know? Say? No clue. Eyes still on the chat window, “Tell you what?”

“Oh yeah,” Brett shut his case close, violin inside. Deliberately changed the topic, “I’ll fetch my laptop charger at home, forgot it when I packed.”

Eddy’s hand hovered over the keys, stopped typing. He wanted to turn to Brett, but held himself. When the person he talked to was ambiguous himself, there’s nothing in Eddy’s arsenal to crack him open. Even they’re _best friends_. And Eddy didn’t notice, that his voice came out as robotic, “use mine.”

“Thanks,” as Brett exited the “office” with his violin case hung on his back, and no looking back at Eddy, “but my laptop’s acting up, have to use mine. Besides, we use your laptop on recordings, can’t really plug it out from it.”

Eddy hid his eyes behind his bangs, silently nodded.

-

No sun up the sky, just clouds. Gloomy clouds.

Brett sighed.

Kicking the pebble he found around at the park, he wandered aimlessly. There’s lead on his stomach, he can’t fathom the truth that he lied to his friend. Envious of the girl Eddy never talked about.

Without him there, Eddy can make time for the “sweet girl.” That’s what Brett believed in. That he’s a _hindrance_.

The duo had been filming episodes for their channel for five days straight since he moved in. And never any brief mention of the girl or anyone outside their family, twoset team, or friends. Brett had his dibs on... maybe it’s editor-san.

Glasses guy kicked the pebble one last time, before sitting on the park bench behind a tree. The peaceful park was nice, the shade under the tree was nice, but Brett felt like crying.

He hid his face behind his hands. In his voice that started to quiver, “maybe I should ask him？”

The chilly autumn wind blew, carried the scent of rain. It’ll pour down soon. Brett cursed himself, “how stupid of me to forget my jacket.”

“Yeah, you dumb four-eyes,” Brett buried his face deeper to the palms of his hands, “Eddy now has someone else...”

He sat motionless, until a voice called him out. Brett hasn’t heard him for a long time, no, he never wanted to hear from that person since--

“I missed you, bud!” then man’s footsteps stopped before him. Without looking, Brett knew the man towered over him.

Brett slowly removed his hand from his face, he doesn’t want to, but his body moved, looked up to the man.

Then the guy kissed him on his cheek, and Brett’s caught by surprise, about to push the guy away the guy grabbed his wrists, “come on, Bretty. I know you missed me.” Brett’s frozen stiff, breath heaving, _he has to_ _ **run**_ _._

The man smiled, “let’s hang out,” whispered words that sounded disgusting to Brett’s ears _“just like the old times.”_

Brett kept on struggling away from the guy’s grasp, despite his urge to shout, seek help, his voice won’t come out; despite his brain shouted at him to run, his knees shook, his strength left him.

His eyes were blown wide, tears threatened to fall, and his whole body frozen, not because the guy was trying to kiss him again, but at the sight of bright yellow t-shirt of the housewives passing through the park. At the specific pair of eyes that were staring back at him amongst the familiar ladies that talked among themselves, chit-chatting. Brett swallowed. Large beads of sweat formed on his forehead.

“N-no!” with the sudden gush of energy within him, he pushed the guy away and he fell to the ground. Before the guy can catch him again, Brett ran. He never looked back, at the park, at the guy, at the group of the yellow shirt housewives.

-

Brett bundled himself with his blanket, in his room. Never moving an inch, he stayed there, ignoring the calls from outside his bedroom door and his phone.

\---

The morning came, but Brett never got even a wink of sleep.

He tossed and turned, but still wide awake. And he’s tired of crying, so Brett decided to get out of bed.

On the living room sofa, Yang-mama.

She must have noticed him, as she set down her cup of tea on its saucer on the coffee table. Yang-mama spoke, “I heard _news_ that concern you.”

Brett looked down to his feet, his hands fidgeted with the hem of his black shirt he wore since yesterday, “Ma, I--”

“I thought you stopped,” her voice stern, “playing around.”

Words formed with difficulty in Brett’s mouth, “I did--”

“Then tell me, is the person who saw you a liar,” Yang-mama paused, “or am I a fool to believe in you?”

Brett’s hands curled in fists, fingers tangled with the cloth of his shirt. Yang-mama was a member of the village majhong team, and one of her teammates saw him at the park. Within a small organization of housewives, news do spread fast.

Tears formed in his eyes and quickly spilled. They fell in droplets to the white tiled flooring under his feet. “He--,” Brett swallowed, “he’s my ex... we’re not... anymore...” hiccups and sobs disrupted Brett’s sentences, “he, he came to me... and- and--”

Yang-mama stood up, embraced her son. Rubbed Brett’s back with her motherly hands.

“I don't want to...” Brett sobbed to his mother’s chest, “but I’m scared... I can’t move...”

“Shh... don’t talk anymore.” She hugged her son tighter, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry...” Yang-mama wiped her son’s wet cheek, displacing his glasses in the process, “I’m so sorry...”

As a mother, it’s her job to clear up any misunderstandings concerning her son.

She held on tight to Brett.

Yang-mama vowed to herself, that she will protect her baby from that punk, by all means necessary.

\---

Scratching his head, Eddy listened in to the person on the other line. “Three videos left, boss,” their editor. 

Eddy typed on his laptop with one hand, as the other held to his phone. A long sigh can be heard on his voice, Eddy, “alright, we’ll stretch the upload schedule again.”

\---

“He’s still at his room,” Yang-mama said to Eddy.

He smiled politely at his friend’s mother, as he entered the Yang residence. “I’ll leave this here,” Eddy said. He placed the bag of lychees he brought on the coffee table and grabbed some for himself. Then, he silently walked up the stairs to Brett’s room.

Before he reached half-way, Eddy heard Yang-mama say, “take care of my son.” Which Eddy answered back with a smile and a nod.

It had been five days since they last shoot a video. It had been five days since Eddy saw Brett. It had been five days since Eddy started camping out of Brett’s bedroom door.

With a popping sound of his knee joint, Eddy sat down on the floor, his back rested on the white door. Announcing his arrival, “I’m here, Brett. If you want someone to talk to...”

No answer.

Just like the other days, Eddy waited. Patiently. He peeled some of the lychees he brought to snack on. The seeds, the stems, the skins, all carefully placed in a mound to his side. And when the batch he had were consumed, Eddy’d go home, and call it a day.

As he ate, Eddy’s ears focused on the room, for any movement of the person inside. Sometimes he heard Brett walk around inside, maybe thinking. Brett had the habit of walking in circles when deep in thought. Other times Eddy heard opening or closing of the windows, drawing of the curtains. It must have been stuffy inside, and Brett wanted fresh air in.

Or just like right now, when Brett said, “go back. Don’t waste your time here.”

Which Eddy would always stubbornly answer with, “I won’t.”

And that’s the only conversation they had for the past five days.

But this time, there’s a different sound he heard, ‘was that the doorknob?’ And before Eddy could move aside to the opening of the door, it creaked open. A tiny bit. And a disaster of a hair and dark circled eyed Brett peeked, “go home, Eddy.”

With swift movements, Eddy stood up, slammed the door wide open, and hugged his friend. Tight, bone-crushing tight. Eddy buried his nose to his Brett’s hair, inhaled the scent of his pillows and sheets. In an almost pleading voice, “don’t push me away.”

Brett’s not, really, in fact, he made time for Eddy and his unknown girlfriend. Eddy should be grateful right? he’s being a good friend-- but why?

Why did Brett always lean on to this embrace, to Eddy’s welcoming gesture? Why did his heart ache at the thought of Eddy and his girlfriend? Why, why was Brett crying?

Brett forced himself to pull out of Eddy’s arms. “Go back,” he said, not looking at Eddy, “better spend your time with your girlfriend ins--”

Eddy gripped hard to Brett’s arms, confused, “what girlfriend?” 

“You--!” Brett bit his lip, looked up to Eddy, “the, the _sweet girl_ ,” he doesn’t want to say but his mouth won’t stop moving, “her perfume's all over you! I smell it every time--”

A loud throaty laugh, uniquely Eddy’s. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, from laughing too hard. It’s not even a perfume, it’s some kind of a repellant, and it’s sickly sweet smell clings to him even Eddy did change clothes and took a bath to wash it off. “The perfume’s ma’s.” 

This earned a blush from Brett. Totally embarrassed, he hid his face behind his hands.

Chuckling softly, Eddy wrapped his arms around Brett again. He can’t help himself but kiss the red ear that peeked out from the disarrayed locks, “you’re so cute, you know?”

Brett squeaked at the action.

“Hey, Brett,” Eddy stated, “I’d like it more if I’d smell just like you.”

It was silent for a moment. Brett can hear the thundering of his own heart inside his ribs, the same for Eddy’s. In a small scared voice, Brett, “but I’m dirty...”

Eddy inhaled more of Brett, encased him more in his arms, “Is this about your past?”

The glasses-clad man didn’t speak.

“You're not,” Eddy licked his lips, “I know... some are still our friends, some we never saw again.” His hand on Brett’s, drew circles on the shorter’s clothed back, “I also know you’ve changed. I saw you change.”

There were quiet sniffles on Eddy’s chest.

“I didn’t believe it when ma told me the story,” Eddy kissed Brett’s hair, “I wanted to hear yours first. I--”

“Sorry...”

“No, no, Brett,” Eddy swept Brett’s hair back, to let him see Brett’s eyes. He cupped Brett’s cheeks, “nothing’s your fault. You have nothing to apologize for.”

Brett buried his face to Eddy's chest, and he embraced him back. Through the tears that formed in his eyes, Brett thought, the safest place in the world was between Eddy's strong arms.

And about the marriage thing, if his mother will ask him if he already had someone in mind, Brett will definitely answer,

"I have, and it always had been Eddy."

**Author's Note:**

> I deleted the "competitive mahjong" part, 'coz I can't understand it haha!
> 
> idk, i'm not satisfied with this... even this oneshot stressed me out for 2 weeks haha!


End file.
